The Hermit Crab Story
by Pitti-Sing
Summary: An All Creatures Great and Small story involving Tristan, a young actress, and a hermit crab. **CHAPTER THREE UP!**
1. One Afternoon At Skeldale House

**The Hermit Crab Story**

"Right, then," James Herriot said cheerfully as he handed the tiny kitten back to the little girl. "She looks very healthy to me."

A huge grin spread across the girl's face. "Thank you, sir," she said, and left with her kitten.

James smiled as he watched her go, then shut the door behind her. He glanced over at the appointment book, which was lying open nearby, and saw that the little girl's kitten had been the last patient that day. It was time to close up.

James had just walked into the kitchen and was about to get a glass of water when the sudden sound of Siegfried's voice made him jump. "James!"

"Yes, Siegfried?"

"Are we still on for seven o'clock?"

"Absolutely," replied James cheerfully. That evening James, Siegfried, James' wife Helen, and Siegfried's younger brother Tristan were going to a local amateur-theatre performance of "The Mikado" in which an old friend of Siegfried's, Albert Maxwell, was starring. "I just need to get a glass of water, and then I'll get ready to go."

"Splendid," said Siegfried cheerfully. Whistling cheerfully to himself, he walked off.

Meanwhile, Tristan was lying on the couch in the living room, giggling as he read a comic book. He heard the sound of Siegfried's whistling and footsteps looming nearer. A panic-stricken expression came over his face. Thinking quickly, he stuffed the comic book inside a nearby collection of W. Somerset Maugham's stories that Siegfried had always wanted him to read. He pretended to read the thick book with what he hoped was a thoughtful, intelligent expression on his face.

Siegfried burst into the room, took one look at Tristan, and exclaimed, "I don't believe my eyes! I never thought I'd see the day when my little brother would develop an appreciation for worthwhile literature!"

Tristan smiled weakly. "Yes, it's very…uh…worthwhile."

"Are you ready to go, then?"

Tristan gave him a blank look. "Go?" he repeated.

"Yes, go."

"Go where?"

"What do you _mean_, go where?!" Siegfried demanded. "Go to the show, of course! Where else!?"

_The show, _Tristan thought frantically. _The show. The show. He's probably mentioned this show to me before. Better look as though I know what he's talking about._ The truth was, Tristan hadn't been listening when Siegfried had first told him.

"Oh!" Tristan exclaimed, praying that he sounded convincing. "Yes! Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world! I...I've been looking forward to watching the…ballet for a very long time."

Siegfried's eyes narrowed.

_Whoops_, thought Tristan.

"IT'S NOT A BALLET!" Siegfried bellowed. "I'M TALKING ABOUT _ALBERT'S_ SHOW! _THE MIKADO_! YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME!"

"_Oh_! Right! It merely, uh, slipped my mind for a moment. Well, I better go get changed!" He raced out of the room, tossing the book onto the couch behind him as he went.

Unfortunately, his aim wasn't very good. The book landed in Siegfried's lap, and something fell out. Siegfried picked it up and examined it.

_I wonder what the hell _The Amazing Adventures of Larry the Head Louse _is_.


	2. The Little Maid From School

Tristan had already made up his mind not to enjoy the show by the time he, Siegfried, James, and Helen walked into the auditorium. His every gesture bespoke his state of mind as he subconsciously (more consciously than sub) tried to make it obvious to Siegfried that he wanted to be elsewhere. He plopped down in his forest-green seat with an expression of utter boredom on his face and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. He could tell that all three of his compatriots noticed. For a moment, he thought Siegfried was going to take umbrage, but the elder Farnon didn't say anything, choosing instead to read his playbill.

"My goodness," he remarked to James. "I didn't realize Albert had done so many Gilbert and Sullivan shows. Look at his biography: _The Pirates of Blah Blah, The Yeomen of the Blah Blah Blah…_"

Or, at least, that's what it sounded like to Tristan. Desperate for something with which to occupy his brain, he decided to focus on the elderly woman sitting directly in front of him. He counted each bluish-white curl on her head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…

He had reached forty-two when suddenly the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the auditorium. After a moment, the orchestra in the pit began to play the show's overture. The curtain rose, revealing a group of men wearing kimonos and Japanese makeup and carrying elaborately decorated fans.

"_If you want to know who we are,_" they sang, "_we are gentlemen of Japan/on many a vase and jar/on many a screen and blah blah blah…_"

Tristan's attention had faded out again. His vision was adjusting to the lack of light, and he could now make out Siegfried, James, and Helen in the darkness. They were all watching the show intently and laughing at the funny lines. Tristan felt as though he was going to fall asleep.

He was only vaguely aware of the entrance of Siegfried's friend Albert Maxwell. Albert was playing Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner of Titipu (the fictional Japanese city in which the operetta took place) and entered singing a number called "Behold The Lord High Executioner" with the chorus of men.

Tristan began to yawn softly, and noted with more than a little pleasure that Siegfried seemed to stiffen noticeably each time he did so. "Yawwwwn," he yawned. "Yawwwwwn."

"_Behold the Lord High Executioner_…"

"YAWWWWWWWWWWN!"

Several heads turned toward Tristan, who blushed furiously (not that anyone could have seen it, of course). 

He had meant to yawn again, but just to annoy Siegfried – not the entire audience. _To be fair, _Tristan thought, _it's not that the show is so _very _bad, it's just the principle of the thing! _Siegfried had dragged him to the theatre in the first place. He had forced him to stop reading "The Adventures of Larry the Head Louse".

And as far as Tristan was concerned, there were some crimes for which people must pay.

Ten minutes or so later, Tristan was just about to fall asleep when he was suddenly jolted awake by the sound of female voices. He realized that there had not been even one woman in the show yet, and now lots of them were parading onto the stage. They all wore beautiful kimonos in a rainbow of colors, and like the men, they all carried fans. But there was one girl, near the center of things, who seemed somehow different from the rest.

She was singing the exact same song as everyone else. "_Comes a train of little ladies/from scholastic trammels free/each a little bit afraid is/wond'ring what the world can be./Is it but a life of troubles/sadness set to song?/Is its beauty but a bubble/bound to break ere long?…_" She was wearing a brightly colored kimono, just like everybody else – hers was a brilliant shade of green. And like every other girl on the stage, she was wearing about three tons of Japanese makeup and a hideous black wig, seemingly so as to remind the audience that she was supposed to be Asian. Like every other girl, she carried a fan. Hers was bright pink, with a butterfly design on it. But there was something that set her apart. Underneath the makeup, Tristan could tell that she had a beautiful face. It was rather hard to tell, but he just knew. He was instantly drawn to her. He sat up straighter in his seat and listened to every note with incredible interest. In the next number, "Three Little Maids From School Are We," the girl had several solo lines, and Tristan became even more drawn to her than before. She had the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. 

As the story progressed, he learned who her character was. She was playing Pitti-Sing, one of three young girls who had just come home from a ladies' seminary. Her older sister, Yum-Yum, had a little bit more to do than she did – Yum-Yum was the romantic lead – but Pitti-Sing had more comedic things to do, which only increased her appeal to Tristan. He had always liked girls who could make him laugh, and this girl certainly could.

When the intermission came, Tristan turned to his brother. "Siegfried, may I take a look at that program?" he said, grabbing Siegfried's playbill out of his hand. (Tristan himself had declined to take a program on the way in.) 

Siegfried looked surprised. "What on Earth do _you_ want to look at that for?"

"Oh, don't look so astonished," Tristan snapped. "I happen to have a deep appreciation for the performing arts." He scanned the cast list until he came to a line that read:

Pitti-Sing…………………………………………………………..……**Dulcie Dunlop**

"Dulcie Dunlop," Tristan whispered.

"What's that, Tris?" said James. 

Tristan jumped, having not realized he'd spoken out loud. His heart pounded. What had his whisper sounded like? Had he given himself away so quickly? "Oh, er, nothing," he squeaked, praying that he sounded convincing. However, he was pretty sure that Siegfried had heard, for he was giving him a raised-eyebrow sort of look. Feeling his face getting hot again, Tristan immediately ducked down.

"Something wrong?" asked Helen.

"Oh, uh, no, my shoelace is untied," Tristan said. It wasn't really, but Tristan quickly convinced himself that it hadn't been a lie by untying the lace and then quickly tying it again.

His face was flaming by this point and wouldn't stop, so he took a very long time to tie his shoelace. When he finally sat up again, he could see with his peripheral vision that James, Siegfried, and Helen were all giving him odd looks, but he stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice.

"_With laughing song and merry dance/with laughing song and merry dance!/With song…and…dance!"_

The cast sang the final note in the show triumphantly, then struck their final pose. The lights went out, and the audience burst into thunderous applause and cheers. Tristan was sure he was clapping and cheering loudest of all.

"Splendid, wasn't it?" remarked Siegfried as Dulcie came out to take her bow.

"Wonderful," Tristan agreed, his smile so wide he felt as though his face would burst. "Absolutely marvelous."

The audience applauded the cast so enthusiastically and for so long that they had to return for what seemed to be an endless series of curtain calls. Once the curtain had come down for the final time, everyone started to get up.

"I really enjoyed that," James said as the group started to inch their way out of their row. "Didn't you, Tris?"

"Oh, yes," Tristan agreed, nodding vigorously. "I loved it."

Siegfried smiled approvingly at his little brother. "I'm glad to hear it, Tristan. I thought you wouldn't appreciate something like this. I'm very happy to know I underestimated you."

_No, actually, you didn't_, thought Tristan. But he didn't care. His thoughts were completely devoted to Dulcie. He was eager to daydream about her all the way home, and then to continue once he fell asleep.

The Farnons and Herriots had gotten out of their row by this point and were able to move much faster. Tristan was startled when he realized that they were not heading in the direction of the lobby, but rather in the direction of the stage.

"Where are we going?!" he demanded.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Siegfried said. "We're going backstage to see Albert. I'd like to say hello."

"Oh, me too!" Tristan said eagerly – perhaps a tad _too_ eagerly, for the statement caused his brother to give him a curious look. "I mean, ah, he did an _excellent_ job." 

As he, James, and Helen followed Siegfried backstage, however, Tristan's eagerness began to turn to anxiety. He wanted very much to meet Dulcie Dunlop, but at the same time he was beginning to worry that he'd make a fool of himself in front of her. It had been known to happen in the past.

Lots and lots of people – a crowd consisting of both the cast and the crew – were milling around backstage. Tristan scanned the crowd but saw Dulcie nowhere. He started to feel a little less nervous, but at the same time his heart started to sink.

"Albert, you old devil!" Siegfried exclaimed as he and his old friend found each other. Albert was a short, round little man with a friendly face. He was a little older than Siegfried. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, Siegfried, and you?"

"The same. You did a fantastic job," Siegfried told him.

"Thank you. I'm having a great time," said Albert. He turned to Tristan. "And how are _you_ doing, young man?"

"Fine, thank you," Tristan answered absentmindedly. Albert continued to talk cheerfully to him about various things, but Tristan wasn't listening – he was busy looking for Dulcie. _I have to meet her_, he thought desperately. _I _must _meet her!_

All of a sudden his wish was granted as the young girl came running backstage. She had changed out of her kimono and wig and was now wearing a light pink skirt with a matching top. She had longish, shiny brown hair. Tristan wouldn't have thought it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful than before. She had a purse slung over her shoulder and was obviously getting ready to leave. She patted Albert's shoulder affectionately as she passed him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Albert, all right?"

"All right, dear, tomorrow. Oh, wait – I'd like you to meet some friends of mine." Dulcie turned back around. "This is my old friend, Siegfried Farnon. Siegfried, this is Dulcie Dunlop – she played Pitti-Sing."

Siegfried and Dulcie exchanged hellos.

"This is James Herriot, and his wife Helen," Albert continued. James and Helen both greeted Dulcie. "And this is Siegfried's younger brother, Tristan."

Dulcie came face-to-face with Tristan, and he felt his breath catch in his throat and his heart turn over. He had had many girlfriends before, and he had been very attracted to all of them – but he knew that he had never felt anything like this in his life. He had fallen in love with Dulcie Dunlop.

"Hello," Dulcie said in her voice, which was musical even when she was speaking. Her lips curved in a beautiful smile as she put out her hand. 

Tristan held out his hand to shake hers and was just about to make his mouth form the word "hello" when he accidentally stepped backwards onto a piece of scenery. The piece of scenery crashed into another piece of scenery, which in turn crashed into another piece of scenery, which crashed into yet _another_ piece of scenery, which crashed into a shelf high up on the wall and made a bucket on the shelf fall down and topple onto Tristan's head.

"Hello," he said, his voice muffled by the bucket.

Several minutes later, Tristan, Siegfried, James, and Helen were in Siegfried's car, riding home. Tristan had an ear-to-ear grin on his face and was sure it would never come off. He had never felt this happy before in his life. Siegfried, James, and Helen talked all the way home, but Tristan didn't hear anything they were saying – all he could think of was Dulcie's beautiful face, and the wonderful way she had said hello to him. He was so infatuated that he barely felt any embarrassment about his accident afterwards.

Tristan and Siegfried were the last two out of the car when everyone arrived back at Skeldale House. "You know, Tristan," Siegfried said, "I really am glad I took you with me to that show."

"Me too, Siegfried," Tristan said honestly. "Me, too."


	3. Cassandra

Tristan spent the next few days in a lovesick haze. Although the others couldn't help but notice that his behavior was somewhat different than usual, they didn't think much of it, figuring it was another one of his many brief attachments. When James had mentioned something about Tristan's state to Siegfried, Siegfried had declared that it would all blow over in a few days' time. James and Helen were inclined to agree. And yet, by the time a few days had passed, Tristan's behavior had still not altered. He went around with a constant silly grin that stretched over his entire face, and was unable to pay attention to anything he was doing. As a result, he almost gave Siegfried an innoculation against bordatella. It was at that point that Siegfried flew into a rage and banned Tristan from the surgery for the remainder of the day, ordering him to make himself useful by mopping the kitchen floor (Mrs. Hall had the day off). Tristan was more than happy to comply, as mopping the kitchen floor was something he could do completely unsupervised, and thus use the entire time to daydream about Dulcie. He was waltzing around the kitchen with the mop and humming some of the songs from The Mikado when suddenly James entered the room. Abruptly, Tristan stopped dancing with the mop and tried to make it look as though he'd been hard at work cleaning the floor all along. "Oh. Hello, James," he said, as nonchalantly as was possible. "Tris," said James, "I've been meaning to ask you - are you feeling all right?" "Me? Feeling all right? Of course I'm feeling all right. Never better. In the pink. Why do you ask?" Tristan knew he was babbling, and, once again, felt like a fool. "You've been acting rather strangely these last few days," James told him matter-of-factly. "Strangely? Me?" "Yes, you. Who else do you think just nearly innoculated Siegfried against bordatella?" "Merely a slip of the fingers, James my boy," Tristan replied airily. "That's quite a slip, considering that Siegfried was standing behind you and to your left and Mrs. Bosley's dog was right in front of you," James remarked, raising an eyebrow. There was a long, silent, and extremely uncomfortable pause. James knew that he had Tristan in a trap, and Tristan could think of nothing else to say. Finally he had to admit defeat. "James," he said, "If I tell you something, do you promise never to breathe a word to another soul as long as we both live?" "You have my word," James said with a smile. "All right, then." Tristan took a deep breath. "Do you remember the girl who was playing Pitti-Sing the other night?" "What - you mean the ingenue?" "No, her sister. The one wearing the green kimono." "Oh.yes, of course." "I've never seen a lovelier pair of eyes or heard a sweeter voice, James. I swear she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life." "I've heard that before," James said. However, his tone was not weary but fond. "But it's different this time, James," Tristan insisted. "It's. just.different this time." He stared anxiously at James, hoping he would believe him. He needed someone to believe what he was saying. James regarded him for a moment. Then he said, "I believe you." Tristan could tell he really did. "Thanks James," he said gratefully. James nodded. It was at that point that Siegfried burst into the room. "Ah, James, there you are. Reynolds is on the phone; seems he needs a bunch of pigs castrated. Sounds like a two-man job. Will you go over with me?" "I can do it if Tristan takes over surgery," James said. Siegfried fixed Tristan in a long gaze, then said grudgingly, "All right." He then left, but not before making sure to turn around and give Tristan a look that clearly communicated the fact that if he caused anything odd to happen while they were gone, he would die. Tristan got the message loud and clear. After Siegfried and James left, Tristan finally finished cleaning the floor. He then wandered out into the waiting room to see if there was anyone waiting. No one was there, so he sat down in the surgery and daydreamed some more. He tried to think of an excuse to go see The Mikado again (preferably without Siegfried figuring out why). It seemed like a hopeless cause. He wondered if he would ever see Dulcie Dunlop again. While these thoughts were swirling through his mind, there was a sudden knock at the door. "Hello!" called a female voice. "Is anyone there?" Immediately, Tristan's heart started to race. He rushed to the door and opened it. Standing before him was Dulcie, holding a small box. "H-Hello!" he squeaked, painfully aware of the fact that his loopy grin had gotten even bigger and more ridiculous. "Come in!" He held the door open for her and let her in. "Hello, Mr. Farnon," said Dulcie, smiling at him. "I don't know if you remember me - my name's Dulcie Dunlop. I'm playing Pitti-Sing inThe Mikado at the Hurst Theatre. Albert Maxwell introduced us the other night." "Oh, yes, yes, of course, I remember you! What can I do for you?" It was then that he noticed how sad Dulcie's smile was, and that her eyes were starting to water. "Miss Dunlop - what's wrong?" "It's - it's so silly of me. I'm sorry," Dulcie stammered. "No, no. Don't apologize. Please, sit down." Tristan guided her to a chair and sat next to her. "What's the matter?" "It's my Cassandra," cried the young woman. "She's been acting quite ill lately." She held out the box to Tristan. He opened it and saw a hermit crab sitting inside. "Oh? What's wrong with her?" "She just hasn't been acting like herself, Mr. Farnon. She never comes out of her shell anymore, and she's off her food." "Hmm. Well, don't worry a moment longer, Miss Dunlop. I promise you I'll cure whatever is wrong with Cassandra." Deep down, Tristan had his doubts, but he forced himself to stop thinking of them and wished with all his might that he would be able to make the hermit crab get better. Frantically, he racked his brain for something that might be wrong with her. Finally a flash of inspiration hit him. "You know, I think she might possibly be dehydrated." Dulcie's face lit up with hope. "Really? Can she be made well?" "Absolutely," Tristan said warmly. "If that's what's the matter, all she needs is a drink." He found a bottlecap nearby and filled it with water. He then lifted Cassandra out of her box and gently set her down before the water. She slowly poked her antennae, then her head out of her shell, and to the delight of both Dulcie and Tristan, she began to consume the water. "Oh, Mr. Farnon!" exclaimed Dulcie. "It's a miracle! You're a miracle worker! How can I ever thank you?" "Think nothing of it," Tristan told her. "I'm just glad I was able to help you.both of you." By that point, Cassandra had finished her drink and was ambling around on the table, so Tristan picked her up and began to put her back in her box. She opened her claw and latched onto the skin of his palm. "AAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!" screamed Tristan. "OOOWWWW! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET - " He finally managed to get Cassandra detached. He heaved a great sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Farnon!" Dulcie gasped. "Oh, no, Miss Dunlop, please don't be," Tristan told her as his palm throbbed wildly with pain. "These things happen, you know. I'm used to it." "Well, if you're absolutely sure," said Dulcie. She still looked concerned and apologetic. Then she said, "Please - call me Dulcie." Tristan forgot all about the pain in his hand as his ludicrous grin became wider still. "All right.Dulcie. And you must call me Tristan." "Tristan," she repeated, and grinned back at him. "Thank you so much." And as she walked out the door, crab in tow, Tristan was convinced that this had been the best day of his life. 


End file.
